1989
by CMayleenJ
Summary: Drabbles inspired by tracks from Taylor Swift's new Album '1989,' including "Blank Space," "Style," "Wildest Dreams," "Clean," and roline Forbes centric, with Steroline, Carnezo, and Klaroline themes.


**_Taylor Swift – 1989 _**

**_"_****_Blank Space"_**

**_"…_****_You know how I love the players and you love the game…"_**

_ "…__.Saw you there and I thought oh my god__ '__Look at that face, __**you look like my next mistake**__**.'**__"_

_Four years._ Four long, tiresome years that left her exhausted and empty had done enough damage, she admitted. Four years of sacrificing herself for others –for _him _–had left her burned, and it was about damn time she called it quits. He had left again but she was done waiting for him.

She was naïve. She was determined, loyal, and resilient, but so incredibly naïve. She could have the strength of a hundred men, but a single one would do her in with even the hint he could love her. It was pathetic, and so incredibly human –but that was her weakness, wasn't it? Trying to be something she's not by holding onto something for far too long. She clung onto him like she clung onto her humanity, as if they were one of the same.

_"…__So it's gonna be __**forever**__o__r it's gonna go __**down in flames**__**. **__You can tell me when it's over__**if the high was worth the pain**__"_

Immortality was both a blessing a curse. It cost her a lot –her mother, with time, and her optimism. Preaching of '_forever_' here and there had gotten stale, as forever became a matter of convenience, never commitment. She lost count of the times promises were broken and she was left to pick herself up.

She dusted herself off, ignored the bumps and bruises, and didn't turn around to see if he was there. He never was. She moved ahead, to her room, and only glanced at the mirror once, frowning when she noted her scars. She was used to the heart on her sleeve, but now she winced, realizing how it hurt. She tried to ignore the pain, but it was consuming, and she was driven to tears.

_"Grab your passport and my hand__. __**I could make the bad guys good for a weekend**__**"**_

It was her weakness –her faith that everyone was good. Too many times she fought for them when they didn't care to make the same effort. She should have recognized a lost cause but devotion deluded her reality. The last fall must have knocked her senses back into place.

He would come later –late, usually –but she wouldn't be there to open the door. For the meanwhile, she would gather her nerves and wipe her tears. She wouldn't pretend everything was fine for his benefit, not anymore. Instead, she would leave him to his own devices as he left her to her own so many times before. She wouldn't indulge him. How many times would they try to persuade themselves they were something they weren't?

_"__Find out what you want__[and] b__e that girl for a month__**but the worst is yet to come**__"_

Time and time again, she finds herself disappointed. More in herself than anything. She tries so hard to be to person they need, but she loses so much of herself in the process. They take, and take, and she is left to grab what is left –and it's not much. She is the only one left to face the consequences, and she curls in shame, pretending to be strong for one more round, but what is left for her to grip?

He sat on a pedestal she catered to. He took, and took, and she was so eager to give more, and more. Not anymore, she swore to herself. Anger settled under the skin. Frustration, disappointment, and bitterness stirred, and she threw her phone across her room in rage.

_"__But you'll come back each time you leave__**'**__**cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream**__"_

He looks for her. He needs her help, he begs. He beckons, she comes, like a faithful dog. She won't let him down. She promises. She succeeds –and he leaves, again. The job is done, and he is no longer burdened. It's all on her now. _Good job,_ Caroline.

She hated herself. She let herself be fooled again. Why did she fall for his pleas? Why did her resolve weaken? She was miserable, and he wasn't there to see it. Why was she surprised? No, she wasn't. She wasn't surprised in the slightest. The imbalance of her feet and the lightheadedness seeded in her head wasn't from shock but her loose-cannon calm teetering on the very edge. The rush of the rage in her veins spurred her to hurry, prompting her onto her feet.

_"__**We'll take this way too far.**__ It'll leave you breathless__or with a nasty scar__."_

She loved him once –she's sure of it. It started off with admiration, and then, she grew to love him. She can't place a time or moment, but if she was certain of one thing, she knew she had fallen –_hard_. Four years –from the day he grace their small town to the moment he abandoned it –they developed _something_. She wasn't sure _what_ to label it but it was strong enough to persuade her to stay as long as she did. She wondered if he felt it, too, but her hope that it was mutual carved her hollow –and at the end of the day, she felt empty while he walked away with everything she had.

She was certain she would always love him, unable to bring herself to hate him even though she wasn't to do nothing more than to slam the door in his face if he miraculously came in this early hour. He was someone she needed during her lowest point, and she remembered how he didn't leave her side. She must have assumed it would always be that way. However, she knew this road was bound to end, and she needed to make a change, starting with a new bag propped on the bed.

_"__Boys only want love if it's torture__. __**Don't say I didn't say I didn't warn you**__"_

It was her time to leave. Bags packed, mirrors adjusted, she could see him behind her, beckoning her to stay –just _one more time_, like _always_. She wanted to, but she knew better. She could fall again or she could go forward. She averted her eyes, looking ahead. If he wanted to follow, he could, but she was tired of waiting. If he wanted her, he could chase her. He was always running –maybe he would take a different route this time? Who knows? He could surprise her. She wouldn't wait to see though, pulling forward onto the road.

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><p><em><strong>Author Note:<strong>__ Expect more! I was inspired by Taylor Swift's amazing new Album (and if you haven't, you need to buy 1989 as soon as you can, because I am not disappointed by it! Rarely do I love an album, let alone all 12 tracks, or more, although I don't have the extra 3 tracks that others do, so that is disappointing... anyways, this is just the first insertion of the short series I plan! _

_With the ambiguous ending, that might or might not be addressed in later additions to reveal the fate of what happens. :) I plan to focus on Steroline, Carenzo, and Klaroline in my 12-drabble-series. If anyone has any particular tracks they like, and certain ideas/pairings that you'd prefer, put them in comments and I might lace them into my latest work. :)_

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><p><em><strong>P.S. I'M BACK BITCHES! Cassidy got her groove back! <strong>But I know, that was one hell of a hiatus_


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